Something To Prove
by Guardian6
Summary: A girl's supposedly accidental injuries hide something much more sinister.STORY COMPLETE.This story now accepts anonymous reviews. Honesty welcome!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Only my original characters belong to me.

Author's notes: I know, I said that I wouldn't have two stories on the go at the same time any more, but I know that not everyone reads R rated fiction, so this one's for you!

SOMETHING TO PROVE.

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(PART ONE)

Some days, the Emergency Room at Community General Hospital could be an absolute hive of activity, with a constant stream of battered, bloodied and bruised patients keeping the doctors thoroughly busy. On other days, it could be more like a morgue, with only the occasional accident to relieve the boredom.

Jesse Travis was having one of those latter days. He lounged at the nurse's station, chatting to anyone who so much as paused there and getting in the way of people who still had work to do, even if he didn't. 

And so, Jesse was handily placed when the ER doors opened and a young girl wandered in, tears streaming down her face, cradling her right arm against her chest protectively. 

Even though she had wrapped a towel around the arm, Jesse could see that it was heavily blood-stained and the first drops were beginning to soak through and splatter onto the floor. He hurried over to her.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, gently taking hold of her injured arm and easing back the towel.

"I... I fell..." the girl mumbled, seemingly disorientated.

Jesse looked at her more closely and saw the beginnings of a bruise just starting to darken under her fringe. Making eye contact with a nearby nurse, the doctor gestured towards the nearest empty room and, between them, they gently steered the confused girl towards it.

"Can you tell me your name?" Jesse asked, as he sat her down.

"Melissa." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Melissa Flynn."

"Okay, Melissa. Now, I'm just going to take a look at your arm, then we'll see about that bump on your head. Alright?"

The girl merely nodded and Jesse wondered if she'd actually heard a word that he'd said. He carefully removed the towel and handed it to the nurse for disposal, then frowned at the lacerations on her arm.

"That must have been some fall," he murmured to himself.

There were three deep cuts, all on her forearm and most probably caused by broken glass. As gently as he could, Jesse eased the skin back, to see if there were any shards of glass remaining in the wound. In spite of his care, the action still provoked a gasp of pain from Melissa.

"Sorry," he soothed, continuing with his examination. "This will only take a second, then the nurse can stitch you up."

The nurse was experienced and knew her duties without being told. She had already prepared a local anaesthetic and, at the nod from Jesse, she began to clean the ugly wounds. The doctor turned his attention to the head wound.

"Okay, those cuts actually look worse than they are. We should have you fixed up in no time." As he spoke he pulled a pen light from his pocket and shone it into Melissa's eyes.

All the while that he worked, Jesse kept up his soothing monologue and, after a while, the girl began to respond. Her tears stopped and, when he'd finished, she gave Jesse a shy smile.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm Doctor Travis, but you can call me Jesse." He smiled in return. "Now, Melissa, you have a mild concussion and I want to keep you in overnight, just as a precaution."

"Wow, okay."

Jesse didn't have a lot of experience with teenagers, but he did know that it was definitely unusual for one to be so keen to spend the night in hospital. Frowning slightly, he went to fetch the appropriate forms to get her admitted.

*****

Any further thoughts of Melissa Flynn were pushed out of Jesse's head as his previously boring shift suddenly turned into a hectic one. A gas explosion kept him busy well into the night and, by the time he finished, he only had enough energy left to get home and fall into bed.

He did, however, go to check on her when he arrived back at the hospital the next morning. Entering her room, Jesse was pleased to note that she was sitting up in bed. There was another woman, slightly older than Melissa, sitting next to her. From their resemblance, Jesse guessed that it had to be her sister.

"So, did you sleep alright?" the doctor asked, picking up her chart and scanning it rapidly. "There don't seem to have been any problems."

"Can she go home today?" the other woman asked.

"I don't see why not, but she really should take it easy for a few days, Miss..."

"Oh, sorry. I'm Rebecca Flynn, Mel's big sister."

Jesse shook her proffered hand: "Well, just make sure that she doesn't do anything too strenuous with that arm."

"Jesse?" Melissa's voice came from the bed and the young doctor smiled down at her. "Thanks."

"It was my pleasure. Now, I'll leave you to get dressed, then we'll see about getting you discharged. You'll have to come back to have those stitches removed. Just go to reception and they'll make an appointment for you."

"Will you be taking the stitches out?" Melissa asked, hopefully.

"What? No, it will probably be one of the nurses. Don't worry, they're all very highly trained."

Jesse put the chart down and, with one last smile at the two women, went back to work.

*****

Two days later and Jesse had forgotten all about Melissa Flynn. It was the height of the summer and the heat seemed to have driven the people of LA even crazier than usual. The ER was constantly busy and Jesse was taking a well-earned break in the doctor's lounge when the tannoy blared.

"Doctor Travis to the ER! Doctor Travis to the ER!"

Jesse rolled his eyes at Mark, took one last swig of coffee, then headed off back to work.

The last person he expected to see was Melissa. Once again, the young girl's face was streaked with tears but, this time, she also had a huge bruise covering one side of her face. When she stood up to accompany the doctor into a treatment room, Jesse also noticed that she was limping.

"What happened, honey?" Jesse asked, gently, as he studied her bruised cheek. While the injury looked painful, there didn't seem to be any permanent damage.

"It was..." Melissa's gaze dropped. "There were these girls, from school..."

"Melissa, if you're being bullied, you can get help." He cupped her chin and lifted her head up, looking at her with concern. "You don't have to put up with it."

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," the girl hurriedly protested. "It was just a stupid argument that got out of control."

"Melissa..." Jesse knew that he was being lied to, but he had to find out to what extent.

"Jesse, can you not call me that?" Her eyes filled with tears. "When dad uses my full name, I know he... I know I'm in trouble."

The doctor frowned as he noticed the hesitation in her voice, when she mentioned her father. 

"Well, how about Mel?" Jesse turned his attention to her swollen ankle. "That's what your sister calls you, isn't it?"

Melissa offered him a shy smile and nodded, then winced as Jesse's hands touched a sore spot.

"Sorry." Jesse smiled in return. "It's only sprained. A cold compress will bring that down in no time, but you will be sore for a little while. So, is there anybody else at home, or is it just you and your sister?"

"Oh, Becky doesn't live with us. She's got her own place."

"So it's just you and your parents?"

Melissa's face clouded over: "My mom died over two years ago. Now it's just me and dad."

Jesse's frown returned. He was starting to get a nagging sense of unease about what he was hearing.

"I'll just go get a nurse, to put something on that ankle," Jesse said, masking his concern. "Then is there anyone who can fetch you?"

"Becky will pick me up."

Jesse nodded before heading off to find a nurse. Then he stood and watched as Melissa's ankle was treated and dressed. His sense of unease was growing and he wondered what was really happening in the life of Melissa Flynn.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE.

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(PART TWO.)

"I'm worried about her, Mark. That's twice she's been into the ER, in just three days. And when she tells me what happened, well, it just doesn't ring true."

Jesse's shift was over, but he had hung around in the doctor's lounge, waiting for Mark, needing to speak to his friend and mentor.

"And she's fourteen years old," Mark sighed, looking at the file Jesse had showed him. "Do you think she's in trouble at home?"

"She gets on well with her sister, I saw that for myself. They seem really close, but the sister doesn't live at home. It's just Melissa and her dad." Jesse looked at Mark, allowing his concern to show. "And I got the impression that she's scared of him."

"You think she might be being abused?" Mark asked, then frowned at the younger doctor's mute nod. "Be careful, Jess. That's a very serious allegation to make, especially without any evidence. If you're wrong, it could prove infinitely damaging to both Melissa and her father."

"I know, but I don't know what to do," Jesse admitted. "Somebody's hurting her and I just can't stand by and let it happen. What if whoever it is goes to far? What if he seriously hurts her?"

"Slow down, Jess, you're getting way ahead of yourself here," Mark tried to rationalise with the agitated young man. "You said yourself that you don't know for sure what happened, only that you thought she was lying. Now, I'm not suggesting that you ignore this, but you have to tread very carefully. Have you considered talking to Child Welfare?"

"And saying what? There's no evidence, no reason for them to even look into her situation."

"I meant the Welfare Department right here, at the hospital. Talk to one of the counsellors, in confidence. You don't even have to mention Melissa's name, but they could give you the advice you need, the signs to look for, the way to get her to open up to you."

"Thanks, Mark." Jesse smiled at him, warmly. "I'll do it first thing in the morning."

*****

Jesse was feeling a little more positive as he headed out through reception. As usual, Mark had helped to clear his head and point him in the right direction. He would do what he could to help Melissa, but now he could do it without risking, at the very least, severe embarrassment if he did turn out to be wrong.

As he left the hospital, Jesse gradually became aware of a strange sound, one that was definitely not in keeping with his much improved mood. It was the sound of someone crying.

The young doctor stopped in his tracks, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. Slowly he rounded a corner and almost stumbled across a small figure slumped on the floor, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her head buried in her arms.

"Hey," Jesse said, crouching next to her.

He knew even before she raised her head that it was Melissa. She looked up at him with frightened eyes and he couldn't help but notice that yet another bruise now coloured her pretty face. 

"Oh Mel," he breathed, anger warring with pity for dominance of his emotions. "Why didn't you come inside?"

"I didn't want to be a bother," the girl sniffed. "It... It's not that bad. I just needed to... I had to get away."

"Away from where? From who?" Jesse put a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders. "Please, Mel. You have to tell me, so I can help you."

"I can't."

"Well, do you at least want to come inside?" he asked, going for the more subtle approach. "Have a cup of coffee, maybe get cleaned up?"

"No, I don't want to be a nuisance." Melissa shook her head. "I mean, you were just on your way home, right?"

"Hey, a little while longer won't make any difference." He smiled at her, sympathetically. "Besides, why did you come here, if you weren't looking for someone to talk to?"

The girl just shrugged and turned her face away, so Jesse tried one final, desperate gambit.

"Then why don't you let me take you home?"

"No!" Melissa cried and fresh tears filled her eyes.

Jesse's heart sank as he saw the abject terror on her face. His fears were looking more and more likely by the moment.

"No," she repeated, more calmly. "There's no-one at home and I don't want to be by myself. I suppose I could go to Becky's."

"Then I'll drive you." Melissa seemed about to protest, so he didn't give her the chance. "No arguments. I don't think you should be by yourself right now either."

Jesse helped the distraught girl to her feet, keeping one arm firmly around her shoulders and she clung to him, like she never wanted to let go.

*****

Rebecca Flynn's apartment was somewhat out of Jesse's way, but he never considered it to be a wasted journey. Completely forgetting Mark's advice, he saw it as the perfect opportunity to get some answers.

He escorted Melissa up to her sister's front door, then waited with her until she answered. Rebecca took one look at the younger girl's appearance and pulled her into an embrace.

"Oh Mel, what have you been up to now?" She looked up and met Jesse's eyes, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"I don't know if you remember me, Miss Flynn, but I'm Doctor Travis. We met, briefly." When Rebecca nodded, he pressed on. "Mel turned up at the hospital in quite a state a little while ago. She didn't want to go home, so I thought this was the best place to bring her."

"Thank you, doctor," Rebecca responded, then moved as though to shut the door.

Jesse took a half-step forward: "Actually, I was hoping that we might have a talk."

For a brief moment, he thought that she was going to refuse, but then she gave a small shrug and stepped back to allow him access.

"Mel, honey," she said. "Why don't you go and get something to eat, while I talk to the doctor?"

Melissa stood in the hallway for a few seconds, clearly torn between her hunger and her curiosity as to what they would be talking about.

"Go on." Rebecca shooed her away.

She led Jesse into a small, comfortable lounge and gestured for him to sit down. He settled for one of the armchairs, while Rebecca took the other, then perched on the edge of his seat and regarded her, gravely.

"I have to tell you that I'm very worried about your sister," he began. "Tonight was the third time this week that Melissa has been at the hospital. Do you know how she's getting these... injuries?"

"Mel's always been a little accident prone." Rebecca laughed nervously. "I remember when she was about five and she..."

"Miss Flynn," Jesse interrupted, before she could go off on a trip down memory lane. "Three times in just a few days is more than just accident prone. The cuts on her arm, the bruises on her face, they don't look like the results of _accidents _to me."

"What are you trying to say? Are you suggesting that I had something to do with them?"

"No, no of course not," the doctor hurried to assure her. "I just wanted to know how close you are to your sister. Does she confide in you? Would she tell you if, for example, she was being bullied?"

"Yes, she tells me everything." Rebecca's tone was still defensive. "If she was having any kind of trouble, I'd know about it."

"Then how about, maybe, a boyfriend?"

"No, she doesn't have one."

"You're sure?"

"I think I know my own sister, doctor."

Rebecca began to bristle at his constant questions and Jesse should have taken that as the signal to back off, but all he could think about was that young girl's pain and he risked one final attempt.

"And how are things between Melissa and her dad?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jesse knew that he'd made a big mistake. Rebecca's eyes blazed and she practically leapt to her feet.

"How dare you?" she almost screamed. "How dare you suggest that my dad would lay a finger on her? He's been everything to her since mum died. You don't know my family and you've got no right to say such things."

Jesse tried to apologise, but couldn't get a word in.

"Get out!" She was yelling by now and Melissa had appeared in the doorway, watching the scene with uncomprehending eyes. "Get the Hell out and don't come back. Stay away from my family and stay the Hell away from Mel!"

The young doctor beat a hasty retreat, wondering how on Earth he was going to explain to Mark what he had just done.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

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(PART THREE)

"You did what?"

It was unusual for Mark Sloan to raise his voice and Jesse couldn't help but wince at his tone. He'd waited until morning, then gone to see his mentor in his office. He had considered calling him at home the previous night, but then decided that this was something he had to do face-to-face. Only now, he was beginning to regret that decision.

"Jesse, what did we talk about, just yesterday?" Mark's tone had changed from incredulous to exasperated. "Do you have any idea what you have just done?"

"I..."

"You have practically accused a man of abusing his daughter," Mark continued, cutting off his attempted explanations. "And without one shred of evidence. From the way you say Melissa's sister reacted, I'd also say that there's a good chance that you're wrong."

"Mark..."

"How could you be so stupid?"

Jesse bit his lip and looked away. He knew that Mark had every right to be mad at him. After all, if the Flynn family decided to take this any further, it could have repercussions for the entire hospital. But that knowledge didn't make it any easier to take.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, knowing how woefully inadequate that sounded.

"Jesse, your enthusiasm is a part of who you are and I wouldn't change that for the world." Mark's tone was more gentle, as he softened towards his downcast young friend. "But what you did last night was downright irresponsible. If Melissa's father makes a complaint..."

"Just tell me how to fix it, Mark."

The natural enthusiasm that Mark had so recently referred to came bubbling back to the surface. The older doctor rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

"It's not always that simple, Jesse. The next move, if there is one, will be down to Mr. Flynn. In the meantime, I can only suggest that you take Rebecca's advice and stay well away from that family."

***** 

Jesse had fully intended to heed Mark's words but, that afternoon, the fates conspired against him. After his talk with Mark, he had immersed himself in his work. If anything he had been working even harder than usual, if that were possible, desperate to make up for his mistake. 

He didn't even know that Melissa was in the building until she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, not knowing who to expect, but the last person he'd wanted to see was the teenager.

"Oh no," he breathed.

He hadn't meant to speak aloud, but knew that he had the moment that a look of hurt flashed across her features. In spite of what Mark said about him being wrong, he found that he still felt very protective towards the girl.

"Jesse?" She was on the verge of tears.

"Mel, honey, I'm sorry," he hurried to reassure her. "It's just that I was... expecting someone else. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" 

"No, I um... I just wanted to say sorry, about Becky." Melissa was obviously embarrassed by her sister's behaviour. "She can get a bit... intense. Since mom died, you know?"

"It's okay, I understand. Big sister's are allowed to be like that. It's part of their job."

Melissa didn't look convinced, so Jesse placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"I mean it, Mel. It's not a problem."

"So we're still friends?"

Jesse paused for the briefest moment, wondering at what stage and in her mind, the doctor/patient relationship had developed into friendship. Then, seeing the hopeful look on her face, he knew that he couldn't add to her hurt any further.

"Of course we are," he answered.

Then Melissa leaned forward and planted a quick kiss firmly on his lips. Taken by surprise, Jesse jerked his head away and looked around to see if anyone was watching them.

"I'm sorry," Melissa said, in a small voice. "Shouldn't I have done that? I just wanted to say thank you."

"It's okay and you're welcome, but I really do have to get back to work." Jesse smiled, then beat a hasty retreat, fervently hoping that nobody who witnessed the exchange recognised Melissa and reported back to Mark. 

*****

"Jesse, I want you to meet Pam Connelly. She specialises in cases like the one we were discussing earlier."

It was mid-afternoon and Mark had tracked Jesse down to the doctor's lounge, where his young friend had been indulging in a cup of coffee and a doughnut.

"Pleased to meet you." Jesse hurriedly dusted the sugar from his fingers and offered her his hand to shake.

"Likewise, Doctor Travis."

"Jesse, please."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to pry," Pam went on. "I don't even want to know the names of the parties involved. But Doctor Sloan seemed to think that you could use some advice."

Jesse flashed a genuinely grateful smile towards his good friend. Any residual irritation that Mark might have been feeling, after the way he'd behaved, had obviously dissipated. The older doctor winked at him return.

"Well, I'll just leave you to it," he said as he exited the lounge, closing the door behind him.

Jesse spent the next half an hour voicing his concerns to Pam. The woman just let him talk, her expression a thoughtful frown.

"Well, I must say that I am inclined to agree with Mark," she said when he'd finished. "The sister's reaction does seem to be the key. If they are as close as you said they are, then she would be the natural confidant. I know that sometimes a child will suffer for years without ever telling any one, but you said that this girl's injuries are all clearly visible. If there had been abuse occurring for any length of time, then the sister would have had her own concerns and they, most likely, would have shown in her reaction to the accusation. Did you get the impression that she was hiding something?"

"No, she was just mad," Jesse answered, ruefully.

He had to admit that he was disappointed by what he was hearing, especially as it all made such perfect sense. He was still no closer to finding out what was happening to Melissa.

"However," Pam continued, seeing his dejection. "There is clearly something wrong with the situation. The girl's injuries have been inflicted by someone."

"So how do I find out who?"

"Didn't Mark tell you to leave this alone?" Pam asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but what if she comes back in tomorrow with more bruises? How can I leave something like that alone?"

"I understand what you're saying Jesse but, if that were to happen, I'd suggest that you let somebody professionally trained in these things handle it. Try to get her to talk to a counsellor."

Jesse nodded and, pushing his chair back with a noisy scrape, got up to leave. He was already late back from his break.

"Whatever happens," Pam called after him. "I'm sure I don't need to warn you about the dangers of getting too involved."

*****

Jesse was nearing the end of his shift and, thankfully, things had quietened down somewhat in the ER. He stood at the nurses station, just making small talk with the woman on duty, trying to kill the time until he could go home.

He heard the elevator doors open and, out of sheer habit, glanced up. He smiled as he saw Mark and Steve step out into the corridor. 

"Are you Jesse Travis?"

The voice came from behind him and Jesse started to turn, a smile of greeting already forming on his face. 

He barely had time to register the man who confronted him, before a fist lashed out and connected solidly with his jaw. Caught off guard and off balance, Jesse crashed to the ground. The man glowered down at him for a brief moment before grabbing him by the lapels and hauling him to his feet. Then he all but threw him against a wall.

"You stay away from my daughter, you sick little pervert," he growled. "You touch her again and I'll kill you."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

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(PART FOUR)

Steve reacted more quickly than anybody. As soon as he'd seen the stranger hit Jesse, he'd moved, trying to cover the distance between them before his friend got hurt again. He heard the angry words the stranger had shouted, everyone in the ER had heard those words, but Steve paid them no heed.

He reached the two men just as Jesse's assailant drew back his fist to punch him again. With practised ease, he grabbed hold of his arm and twisted it up behind his back. Just a few moments later, he had the stranger pinned up against a wall.

Mark had also hurried over and was assuring himself that, while Jesse was very shaken, no serious damage had been done.

"Let me go!"

The stranger began to struggle in Steve's grip, so the detective simply applied a little more pressure to his twisted arm.

"You wanna calm down and tell me what the Hell's going on?"

"Ask the paedophile," the stranger hissed.

Jesse just stared at him, a look of absolute incomprehension on his face. Mark, however, had started to get a sneaky suspicion as to what this was all about.

"Why don't you start by telling us who you are?" he suggested.

"I'm Eric Flynn and your doctor has been molesting my daughter."

Mark looked around and saw just how many people were witnessing this conversation.

"Let's go to my office," he said, much to the disappointment of the assembled audience. "Maybe we should discuss this in private."

At the man's reluctant nod Steve finally released him, but kept his guard up, just in case he decided to attack Jesse again.

"Jesse," Mark said, as the young doctor made to accompany them. "Why don't you get an ice-pack for your face. We'll talk later."

Effectively dismissed, Jesse could only stand and watch as Mark and Steve escorted Eric Flynn back into the elevator.

*****

"I'm not gonna let you people sweep this under the carpet." Eric Flynn started ranting, the moment they reached Mark's office. "I know what you're like, how you close ranks and protect your own. Well, I'm not gonna let that happen."

"Mr. Flynn." Mark had to raise his voice to get through to the other man. "It might help if you'd tell me what the problem is."

"The problem is your doctor and my daughter. My fourteen-year-old daughter."

"Melissa," Mark sighed.

"You know about it?" Flynn demanded, incredulously. "How long has it been going on? How could you let it happen? I can't believe you would condone..."

"Mr Flynn, please!" Again the doctor had to shout to be heard. "I only know your daughter's name because Doctor Travis expressed some concern about her."

"Oh yeah, and I heard about that too. Trying to cover his tracks by accusing me of beating up on her. For all I know, it's him who's been hurting her. Dammit, I should've hit him harder."

"I can assure you that Doctor Travis..."

"How well do you know him, huh?" Flynn interrupted, angrily. "Not well enough to know that he's been carrying on with my little girl."

"You keep making these accusations." Steve had been leaning against the door, but he straightened up and approached Flynn. "You must have some pretty strong proof, to assault a man like that."

"And what the Hell's it your business?"

Steve sighed and pulled out his badge. The fact that he was a cop had an immediate effect on Flynn.

"So why are you here, instead of downstairs arresting that child molester?" he demanded.

"Proof, Mr. Flynn?"

The man sank back into his chair and reached into his inside pocket. Withdrawing a black, leather-bound book, he tossed it onto the desk in front of Mark.

"Melissa's diary," he said. "Is that proof enough for you?"

*****

_Jesse kissed me today and I mean really kissed me. It was amazing. He is just the best kisser in the world. It's incredible going out with a real man, instead of those stupid boys from school. Jesse really knows how to treat a girl. He even said that he doesn't care about the age difference. He said let people think what they want._

He's amazing. We've only known each other a few days and I love him already. I know that he feels the same way about me.

Mark sighed as he read that, the last entry in the diary. He knew that it wasn't true, Jesse would never do such a thing, but he also knew that convincing Eric Flynn of that would be almost impossible.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Flynn demanded, belligerently.

"Well, we'll look into it, of course." Mark sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm going to need copies of the diary entries."

Flynn nodded, then pulled some photocopies of those damning pages out of his pocket. The man had come prepared.

"And you've got to hear Jesse's side," Steve put in, somewhat amazed by the turn of events. "Give him a chance to defend himself."

"That goes without saying." Mark flicked through the copies of the diary's entries. There were only four of them, but he could see that Jesse's name featured predominantly in all of them.

"And in the meantime? Are you gonna let him carry on treating patients?" Flynn wanted to know. "Putting other people's kids at risk?"

"Now wait a minute." Steve reacted furiously to the slur on his friend's name. He all but squared up to Flynn, ready to make him eat those words. Flynn glared back at him, not giving an inch.

"Steve, Mr. Flynn, please." Mark help up his hands and the two men backed down, albeit grudgingly. "That will be for the Board to decide. I'll talk to them immediately, then I'll let you know their decision."

"Alright." Flynn got up to leave, without offering either man a handshake. "But if I don't hear from you soon, you'll be hearing from my lawyer."

*****

Mark found Jesse still in the doctor's lounge some hours later and long after he should have gone home. The older doctor had spoken to, then argued with, the hospital's administrators, but to no avail.

Now, seeing the dejected slump to his colleague's shoulders, he felt terribly guilty about only being able to deliver more bad news.

"Mark!" Jesse all but leapt to his feet, as he entered the room. "What's going on? That was Mel's dad, right? What was he..?"

"Jesse, I think you should sit down," Mark said, frowning slightly as he noticed how the young man had abbreviated Melissa's name. "Eric Flynn has made a very serious allegation against you, one that we... that is, the hospital, can't ignore."

"What?"

"He claims that you're in a relationship with Melissa."

"But that's crazy," Jesse protested. "He's just trying to get his own back because of what I said to Rebecca. Mark, surely you don't believe him."

"Of course I don't." Mark saw a look of relief flash across his young friend's features and had to force himself to continue. "But it's not just his word, Jess."

He handed Jesse the copies that Flynn had given him.

"What is it?" Jesse asked, not bothering to look through them.

"Entries from Melissa Flynn's diary," Mark told him, grimly. "They're all about you, Jess."

At last the young doctor's eyes fell to the papers that he held, then widened with disbelief at what was written there.

"But Mark, none of this is true," he argued. "She's just making it up."

"I know that Jesse, but I'm afraid the hospital Board doesn't see it that way." Mark sighed and looked at his friend, sadly. "They've ordered a full investigation. In the meantime, you'll be suspended on full pay. Effective immediately."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

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(PART FIVE)

"I can't believe you're taking his side in this."

"Jess, it's not a case of taking sides," Mark explained, trying to calm his young friend down. He had taken the news that he was to be suspended very badly indeed. "But Eric Flynn is threatening to sue the hospital and we have to take that threat seriously."

"But it's all lies." Jesse gestured towards the papers that were now scattered on the table. "She's delusional. I didn't do any of those things."

"I know you didn't and the investigation will clear you."

"But there shouldn't even be an investigation." The distressed young man got up and began to pace. "Why can't you just believe me?"

"I do believe you," Mark tried to assure him. "But isn't it better that we get this cleared up internally, rather than let Flynn drag it through the courts?"

Jesse just shook his head, continuing to pace. He honestly couldn't understand why he was being put through this. Surely his word was good enough. But, obviously, it wasn't. Some people actually believed that he was capable of getting involved with a fourteen-year-old patient. It felt like betrayal.

"Jesse, please. Just go home," Mark tried to reason with him. "You're finished for the day anyway and I'll call you tomorrow to let you know what's happening."

"But what about my shift tomorrow?" Jesse's voice was plaintive. 

"I'm sorry, Jesse."

The young doctor sighed, then ran his hands through his already unruly hair. The knowledge that this was really happening to him was just starting to sink in.

"I don't believe it," he whispered.

"Get some sleep," Mark advised him. "It's going to be okay."

"That's easy for you to say," Jesse snapped back, his disbelief being rapidly replaced by anger. "You're not the one who's just been suspended, because your colleagues are prepared to take the word of a schoolgirl above yours."

"Jesse..."

"Just forget it, Mark."

With that, Jesse stormed out of the lounge, slamming the door behind him.

*****

Jesse was still angry as he drove towards home that evening, his mood worsening the more he thought about what had happened. He simply couldn't accept that he had been suspended because of Melissa's lies. By the time he neared his apartment he was, quite simply, furious.

Coming to a sudden decision, he didn't park in his usual spot, but carried on driving, straight past the building. He was angry, he was upset and he needed a drink.

If he had been thinking more rationally, Jesse would have realised that alcohol was not going to solve his problems. If anything, it would only add to them, but the young doctor wasn't exactly in the most rational frame of mind.

Pulling up at the first bar he came to, he went inside and ordered a beer, followed by a whiskey chaser. Once that was gone, he ordered the same again.

_What the Hell,_ he thought to himself as he downed the second whiskey._ It's not like I've got to get up for work tomorrow._

So Jesse proceeded to drown his sorrows. He wasn't normally much of a drinker and the alcohol went straight to his head. He knew that he'd had too much when he got up to go to the bathroom and the room tilted alarmingly.

"Oops," he muttered, catching hold of the edge of the bar just in time to prevent himself from falling over. "Time to go home."

"I hope you're not planning on driving, sir," the bartender said, having overheard him.

Jesse squinted back at him, trying to work out which of the two barmen he could see had spoken. 

"No, I only live a block away and it's a nice night for a walk."

He headed for the bathroom, bouncing off one of the walls on the way, then headed out through the back door. It had turned quite chilly while he'd been inside and he looked longingly towards his car. It would take him ten minutes to walk home.

"Oh, what?" Jesse looked accusingly up at the sky as the first drops of rain started to fall. "No. What else can go wrong?"

*****

"Jesse's not answering his phone, "Mark told Steve, a trace of concern in his voice. He was holding the phone to his ear, as he spoke. "He should be home by now."

"Maybe he's just gone off somewhere quiet, to think," his son answered. "You know what Jesse's like."

Mark nodded distractedly, but was obviously not convinced. He was worried about his young friend. Jesse had been so upset when he'd left that Mark had tried to call him the moment he'd had time to make it home. Since then, two hours had passed and there was still no answer to his repeated calls.

Eventually, after letting the phone ring almost two dozen times, he was forced to concede that there was going to be no response this time either and hung up.

"So what exactly do we know about Eric and Melissa Flynn?"

Steve had used his connections at work to run a background check on Jesse's accusers, but nothing useful had come from it

They had move to LA from Delaware just over a year ago. They had never been in trouble with the law and there didn't seem to be any hidden secrets in their past. Steve had also made enquiries with the police in their home town, but with the same fruitless results.

Mark's other concern was Melissa's bruises. Could they just be coincidental? A fall, an argument with some school-friends. Mark supposed that it was possible, but he seriously doubted it. Somebody had been hurting that little girl and they were still no closer to finding out who.

"Why don't we go home, dad?" Steve's voice cut through his musings. "You can try calling Jesse again later, when he's had time to calm down."

*****

Jesse slid behind the wheel of his car and carefully fastened his seatbelt. The rain was coming down in earnest and, his mind fogged by alcohol, had decided that he wasn't all that drunk and was, in fact, okay to drive.

He moved slowly and with exaggerated care. If he just took his time, he'd be fine. After all, it was only a few minutes drive to his apartment. The roads were quiet and he wouldn't have to worry about fetching his car in the morning.

Jesse successfully manoeuvred out of the car park and his confidence began to grow. He was a good driver at the best of times so, he figured, if he just did what he always did, then he'd be fine.

The problem was that his judgement wasn't exactly up to scratch. His vision kept blurring and the road kept splitting into two. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep going in a straight line.

Jesse's solution to that was to simply slow down and not to try anything too complicated, like changing lanes. So he proceeded at a crawl, ignoring the other traffic and focussing only on getting home. 

Just as he was nearing his goal, he heard a siren behind him. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw flashing lights. Silently congratulating himself for being a conscientious driver, he carefully indicated and pulled over as far as he could, to make way for the emergency vehicle.

He misjudged the distance completely. The Mustang's front wheel rode up onto the kerb and Jesse managed to brake just in time to avoid colliding with a mail-box.

It was only then that he realised that no emergency vehicle had gone racing past him. The lights were still flashing in his mirrors and he saw, with horror, that a police car had pulled up behind him.

"Uh oh," he muttered.

Mark was going to kill him, he realised with sudden dismay. He was the subject of an internal investigation and the first thing he'd done was to get himself arrested. He couldn't allow his mentor to find out about this, he would be furious. 

More concerned about Mark's reaction than the consequences of his actions, Jesse pushed open the car door and stumbled out into the rain. Seeing a cop approaching him, with one hand on his gun, Jesse panicked completely and began to run.

He'd barely gone a dozen strides before he was tackled from behind and brought crashing down onto the sidewalk. A firm knee planted on his back prevented him from struggling, as his arms were pulled roughly behind him and then secured with handcuffs.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART SIX)

"I don't believe it!" Steve crashed the telephone down, a look of absolute fury on his face.

"Whatever's the matter?" Mark asked, coming down the stairs in his dressing gown.

It was the early hours of the morning and the telephone had disturbed them both. Now, seeing the look on his son's face, Mark began to dread the answer to his question.

"Jesse's been arrested."

Those were the very last words that Mark had expected to hear and he sank down onto the couch, with a look of utter shock on his face.

"Apparently he decided to have a few beers when he left the hospital last night," Steve continued, still clearly angry. "And then he decided that he was okay to drive home."

"Oh no," Mark muttered.

"That's not the worst of it. When the police pulled him over, thankfully before he could hurt himself or anybody else, he tried to run away."

"I shouldn't have let him go off like that." Mark shook his head, wondering what he could have done to prevent it. "Is he alright?"

"He won't be when I get my hands on him."

Mark knew that his son's anger was only due to worry and he had to admit that he wouldn't have minding getting hold of Jesse himself at that moment. If Eric Flynn were to find out about this, then it could seriously harm the young man's defence.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"The guy on duty owes me a favour and he said, that if I get Jesse out before his shift ends, then he'll overlook it." Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "But I must admit, the way I'm feeling right now, I'm tempted to just leave him there."

"Steve!"

"Just kidding." Steve hurriedly reassured him. "But before I go, I'm going to have a shower and then get some breakfast. Then I'll think about getting him out. It'll do him good to sweat for a couple of hours. It might give him time to think about what he's done."

*****

The custody officer at the station had told Steve that he finished work at seven in the morning. So it was exactly quarter to that hour when the detective turned up to see Jesse. A night in the cells might be just what the young doctor needed to bring him to his senses.

As the cell door swung open, he stood with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

Jesse was already awake and sitting on the edge of his bunk, his head in his hands and suffering from the mother of all hangovers. He glanced up when the door opened and a smile lit up his face when he saw his best friend standing there.

"Steve!" He started to get up, but then soon thought better of it as his pounding head threatened to explode. "Can I go home now?"

"Will you give me a minute?" Steve spoke to somebody who stood out of Jesse's line of sight, then stepped into the cell. His expression was murderous.

"I'm so..." the young doctor began.

"How could you be so stupid?" 

Jesse's attempted apology was lost in the face of Steve's wrath. He cringed as he remembered Mark using those exact same words less than a day ago.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," he mumbled, staring at the floor. Tears of shame stung at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. 

"Jesse, you don't even drink." Steve still wasn't finished. "And as for trying to drive home... You're a doctor for Christ's sake. Haven't you seen enough of the consequences of that kind of thing? You could have killed somebody."

"I know and I'm sorry." Jesse turned his anguished gaze back up towards his friend. "I don't know what else I can say."

"Well, I don't think 'sorry' is going to cut it. What if you were sitting there facing a vehicular manslaughter charge? It could easily have happened, Jesse. You know it could."

Those words finally forced home to the young doctor exactly what he had done. His memories of the night before were cloudy, at best. What if he had woken up to the news that he had killed someone, without having any memory of it? He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to forcibly keep the tears at bay. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Steve stared at the humble looking man, seated before him. At his unshaven face, his rumpled clothes and the abject misery that he wore around him like a cloak.

Then he remembered exactly what it was that had driven Jesse to this and decided that he had been punished enough. 

"Alright, I'm taking you home," he said, biting back a smile at the relief that lit up his young friend's face. "Don't get too excited, Jess. You've still got to try and explain all of this to my dad."

*****

Jesse sat silently in the passenger seat of Steve's car throughout the journey to his apartment. He was mortified by what he had done and could only dread the prospect of having to face Mark.

Steve glanced at him occasionally, slightly unnerved by his usually verbose friend's prolonged silence. However, he didn't make any attempt to instigate a conversation. He wasn't quite ready to let Jesse off the hook just yet, but when they arrived at the doctor's home, he did feel the need to say something.

"I've got to go to work," he said, as Jesse opened the car door. "I'm trusting you to just go inside and stay there. Dad said he'd call around later."

Jesse merely nodded, too ashamed to even look the other man in the eye.

"And Jesse, please, don't let him down again."

Those parting words stung Jesse more than anything else that Steve had said and, worst of all, he knew that he was right. He had let Mark down in a big way. Mark Sloan, who had treated him more like a son than a colleague, who had stood by him no matter what, even when it seemed like the whole world was against him, who had always been there for him.

If it were possible, Jesse's shame deepened and he kept his head low as he made his way to his front door, not wanting anyone to see the tears that he could no longer prevent from falling.

Once inside, he leaned back against the door, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself down. It would be hard enough to face Mark, without being an emotional wreck at the same time. 

Jesse glanced down at himself and realised just what a state spending the night in a prison cell had left him in. He definitely needed a shower. Then once he had made himself at least a little more presentable, he sat on the couch and waited, with dread churning in his stomach, for Mark to call round.

*****

Mark hadn't intentionally left Jesse waiting for the entire day, before going to see him. But events at the hospital had made it impossible for him to get away.

That morning, when he'd learned of Jesse's arrest, he'd fully intended to go and give the young man a piece of his mind. Now he no longer had the heart to do that. Burdened down by the news he had received just that afternoon, Mark stood outside Jesse's front door for a long moment, before finally plucking up the courage to knock.

It was a very subdued young doctor who opened the door to him, having had all day to worry. Jesse kept his eyes downcast, as he stood back to allow his mentor entry, knowing that he was about to receive a lecture and knowing even more so that he thoroughly deserved it.

"Jesse..."

There was something in Mark's voice that caused Jesse to look up sharply. He had been expecting anger, but all he heard was compassion.

"I think we should sit down." Mark guided his young friend towards the couch.

"You know, when people say that, it's only ever bad news. Couldn't we stay standing?" Jesse joked feebly.

"Please, Jess."

Knowing that whatever Mark had to say was serious, Jesse sat down heavily. His heart began to race as he saw the desperate look in his friend's eyes and he knew that he hadn't come bearing good news.

"Mark, what's happened?" he asked, even though he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"Flynn has moved fast," Mark sighed, forcing himself to meet Jesse's pleading gaze. "His lawyer got in touch with the hospital earlier today and made them an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"Jesse, they are insisting that they're taking this to court, no matter what the outcome of our investigation." He sighed and ran one hand over his eyes. "But they also said that they would be prepared to settle out of court, provided that they received appropriate compensation."

"So it's all about money," Jesse murmured.

"Not quite, there was one other proviso. The Flynn's will drop the lawsuit against the hospital if they are offered enough money, but with the added condition that you are dismissed from Community General."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART SEVEN)

Mark watched sadly as all of the colour drained from Jesse's face.

"No," the young man whispered. "They can't do that, can they? They can't just... fire me."

"No Jesse, they can't," Mark answered, forcefully. "I will fight them every step of the way on this."

"What do you mean, fight them? They haven't actually... agreed to the offer yet, have they?" Jesse was forcing himself to ask questions that he clearly dreaded the answers to.

"No, they haven't," Mark quickly assured him. "And they're not going to either. I swear to you, Jesse, I won't let them throw you to the wolves over this."

"But I didn't even do anything," the young man moaned, covering his face with his hands, seeming already resigned to losing his job. 

"I know you didn't and don't worry, my friend, I intend to prove it."

"But how? It's only my word against hers and we've already seen who the Board are going to believe."

"Don't give up, Jesse." Mark laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The Board are just panicking because they don't want the bad publicity. That's the only reason they'd even consider Flynn's offer. Now, I don't know exactly how much compensation is being discussed, but I do know that it will easily be five figures and I can't see the Board parting with that sort of money, not without exploring every other option available."

"How about the option that they just take my word for it?" Jesse snapped.

"Losing your temper isn't going to help matters one little bit. And neither," he added, remembering the original reason for his visit, "is getting drunk."

Jesse felt himself blush with embarrassment. He was already seriously regretting his actions of the previous night.

"It's okay, Jesse. I'm not going to lecture you," he said, taking pity on his young friend. "Besides, I'm sure that Steve has already had plenty to say on the matter."

Mark had to smile at Jesse's mute nod. He had seen the mood that Steve had been in that morning and hadn't envied it being Jesse who was on the receiving end of it.

"Seriously though," the older doctor went on. "You really do need to keep a clear head while we get to the bottom of this. The hospital Board are going to want to speak to you at some stage. Do you know what you're going to say to them?"

"What can I say, that I haven't already said? I didn't do anything, Mark, but I don't know how I can convince them of that."

"Think back, Jess," Mark prompted him. "All of the times that Melissa was at the hospital, did you ever say or do anything that might have caused her to develop this fixation with you?"

"I was kind to her, Mark. That's all."

"And you never said anything that she might have interpreted as meaning her feelings were reciprocated?"

"No!"

Jesse's denial was vehement, but his mind was racing. _So we're still friends? _He'd been concerned about that question when Melissa had asked it, but then had chosen to take the easy way out and just say yes. Now it wasn't looking quite so simple.

He remembered how Melissa had then kissed him and wondered what the hospital gossips were saying about that little episode. It was amazing that it hadn't got back to Mark already.

Well, it was bound to come out in the course of the investigation and Jesse decided that it was better to tell Mark himself, than to wait for Melissa's twisted version of events. With a sigh, he quietly confessed to what had happened in the hospital corridor.

"And you've only now thought that it was important enough to mention?" Mark couldn't hide his disbelief. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

The conversation only went downhill from there. Jesse was also forced to admit that, on Melissa's second visit, he had been alone whilst he treated her. It was just more ammunition for Eric Flynn to use. 

When Mark left his Jesse's apartment later that evening, he no longer seemed quite so confident in his young friend's future.

*****

The next morning, Mark found himself facing the most unexpected visitor. He was in his office, trying to catch up on some of the paperwork that had piled up while he tried to deal with Jesse's crisis, when there was a light knock on the door. At Mark's bidding, the door opened and a young girl stepped in.

"Hi," she said. "I was looking for Jesse, but they told me to come and see you."

"Are you Melissa Flynn?" The doctor knew the answer to that question even as he asked it.

"Yeah!" The girl's face lit up. "Did Jess tell you about me?"

"Young lady." Mark took his glasses off and looked at her sternly. "With what you are putting my colleague through at the moment, I didn't need anyone to tell me about you."

"That's why I'm here," she answered, her face clouding over. "I want to apologise to him."

"Why don't you just dispense with the apology and start telling the truth?"

"Oh, Jesse told me all about you. You're his boss, aren't you? Well, of course he's not going to tell you about us."

"Miss Flynn..."

"So where is he?" she interrupted him. "I really need to see him."

"Miss Flynn," Mark continued, more loudly. "Doctor Travis isn't here and even if he were, I think you'd be the last person he'd want to see."

Melissa's face crumpled and, for a moment, Mark thought that she were about to burst into tears. Compassion won out as he realised that, whatever else might be happening, this girl still had some serious problems of her own. The still livid bruises on her face were testimony to that.

"Why don't you sit down?" he said, his tone softening. "Then you and me can have a little talk."

Melissa, making a visible effort to control herself, nodded and took the seat opposite the doctor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Mark began. "But you've got Doctor Travis into an awful lot of trouble and I'm just trying to help him."

"I guess." Melissa looked far from convinced. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Mark felt a brief surge of hope that, maybe, he was finally starting to get through to her. But her next words swiftly dashed that hope.

"My dad wasn't supposed to find my diary."

"Melissa, about your diary..."

"I hate it when he goes snooping like that, but when Becky told him about Jess, he just went ballistic! I mean, I guess I should have known. I really should have found a better hiding place."

"Melissa!" Mark had to raise his voice again, before she would finally shut up and let him get a word in. "Please, just listen to me for a moment. I've known Jesse for many years and he is a very good friend of mine. He is a very kind and caring person. I also know that, sometimes, he can do his job too well. That's all he was doing with you, Melissa. His job. He..."

"His _job _doesn't include taking me for a drive," Melissa reacted furiously. "His _job_ doesn't include kissing me, does it?"

"But he didn't do those things, did he?" the doctor pressed on relentlessly. "At least not in the way that you say. He was just being kind, just trying to help you, like he would anybody else."

"No!" Melissa almost screamed.

Leaping to her feet, she yanked the door open, then paused on the threshold and turned back to him.

"You can't bully me!" she cried, in the same piercing tone. "And you can't threaten me!"

With that, she was gone and Mark could only stare at where she had been, completely dumbfounded by what had just happened. A moment later, he took off after her, but Melissa was running down the corridor towards the elevators, leaving a dozen astonished witnesses in her wake.

TO BE CONTINUED...

__ __


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART EIGHT)

"Mark, what was all that about?" Amanda asked, a short while later.

By sheer coincidence, she had been one of those people in the corridor when Melissa had made her dramatic exit. Now, she was seated in the chair that the girl had so recently vacated, looking at her old friend concernedly.

Mark was barely even aware of her presence. He was silently berating himself for not taking steps to prevent what had just happened. Only the previous evening, he had chided Jesse for spending time alone with Melissa and then he'd gone and done exactly the same thing.

There were no witnesses to their conversation, it was going to be a matter of taking one person's word over another's. Again.

"Mark?" Amanda prompted, as the silence stretched.

"That child..." Mark looked at her, anger at both himself and Melissa clearly evident in his usually benign features. 

"She said something about you threatening her," Amanda said, though her tone suggested that she didn't believe it for a minute.

Mark suddenly and completely knew exactly how Jesse was feeling, facing up to a wild accusation, with only his word as his defence.

"I need to call Steve, something's seriously wrong here." the older doctor said. "Then I suppose I'd better call Jesse."

Amanda leaned forward and stopped his hand, even as he reached for the telephone.

"Don't you think that Jesse's got enough to worry about at the moment?" she asked him, gently. "He really doesn't need this on top of everything else."

"No, I suppose you're right." Mark sighed heavily. "But I am going to have to tell him eventually. Tell him that I've just made things about a thousand times worse."

*****

"But dad, I've already talked to the police in Delaware." Steve couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice. "They couldn't help us."

"Then you have to try again," Mark insisted.

The detective sighed heavily. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Jesse, that was at the top of his list of priorities, but he didn't see what good it would do to keep raking over old ground.

"Steve, there is something just not right about this whole situation," Mark continued into the ensuing silence. "Talk to the school, their neighbours, anyone who might have known them. I'm sure people will remember them, even if it is nearly two years since they moved here."

"Dad, it's going to be difficult to get that information. This isn't even an official investigation."

"I know, Steve, but you have to try." Mark injected urgency into his tone. He was convinced that the answers he craved lay in Melissa's past. "And hurry, son. We might be running out of time."

"Why, what's happened?" Steve demanded.

Mark went on to bring his son up to date on the latest developments, including Melissa's little 'performance' that morning. Steve frowned thoughtfully as he listened.

"You know, this is starting to look like one Hell of a scam," he said, when his dad had finished. "You think maybe they've done something like this before?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. It seems so easy to get compensation these days and for just about anything. I think you're right, Steve. I think that the Flynn's are just looking to make a fast buck."

"But if it's only about money, then why insist on Jesse being fired?" the detective wondered. "And where did Melissa's bruises come from?"

"I honestly don't know who's been hurting Melissa and that worries me more than anything else," Mark confessed. "As for wanting Jesse to be fired, well, I just think that they're trying to add credibility to their claim. If Jesse had really done what he's been accused of, then Eric Flynn would want to see him punished." 

"Okay, dad, leave it with me. I'll make some calls, see what I can find out." Steve didn't sound overly optimistic.

"Please, Steve. I can't tell you how important this is. When the Board finds out about my meeting with Melissa, there's no telling what they'll do. I might find myself suspended right alongside Jesse."

"Surely they won't take her word over yours," his son protested.

"I never thought they'd take her word over Jesse's," Mark answered, sadly. "And look where that's got us."

*****

"Amanda!"

Jesse was genuinely surprised to see the young pathologist at his door. When he'd answered it, he'd fully expected to see Mark standing there.

"What? Has something happened?" He looked past her, out into the corridor, wondering why his mentor hadn't so much as been in touch with him that day.

"No, Jesse," Amanda smiled. "I just thought you might want some company."

Jesse scrubbed a hand over his unshaven face. Left alone all day, with nothing to do but contemplate his situation, Jesse had began to succumb to depression. He hadn't even dressed properly that morning, but simply dragged on some sweat-pants and a tee-shirt. His feet were bare. 

Now, seeing Amanda, as elegant as ever, standing in his doorway, he realised what a state he must look. He stepped back to allow her entry anyway.

"Um, sorry," he mumbled, looking around at the habitual clutter that was his home. "I haven't, um..."

He trailed off. He had been about to say that he hadn't had time for a clean-up, but that would have been patently ridiculous. For the past two days, he'd had nothing but time.

"Jesse, this is me you're talking to," Amanda said, sympathetically. "You know you don't have to stand on ceremony. And you certainly don't have to apologise. You do have coffee though, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." In spite of her assurances, Jesse's tone was still apologetic.

Amanda sat and watched Jesse, as he busied himself in the kitchen. Seeing the lethargy in his movements and the slump to his shoulders, she knew that she had done the right thing by stopping Mark from telling him about the events of that morning. One more shock might just be one too many for her young colleague to take.

*****

"So, how are you holding up?" Amanda asked, as Jesse placed a drink in front of her. "Really?"

"Oh, you know me." Jesse attempted a laugh. "Making the most of my time off. I think I might even go..."

Amanda saw the breakdown coming a moment before it happened. Jesse's words trailed off on a sob of anguish and he covered his eyes with his hands, not wanting her to see his tears.

"Oh, Jesse."

Moving to sit on the arm of the chair he'd collapsed into, Amanda put her arm around his trembling shoulders.

"Why is this happening to me?" He looked up at her through red-rimmed eyes. "Amanda, what if Mark doesn't... can't..?"

"Don't even think that way," his friend scolded him gently. "Hey, he's even got Steve running around trying to sort this out. It's going to be fine, Jess."

Jesse bowed his head.

"I didn't mean to cause so much trouble for everyone," he murmured.

"Jesse, you're no trouble. None of this is your fault."

"Then why hasn't Mark so much as called?" the distraught young doctor protested. "I mean, something must be happening. Why won't he let me know what's going on? It's not... It's not bad news, is it?"

Amanda suddenly found that she could no longer meet his pleading gaze. She couldn't be the one to tell him about what had happened that morning, not when he was already so upset. But she couldn't blatantly lie to him either.

"Mark and Steve are doing everything that they can to get to the bottom of this," she said, evading his question. "And you trust them, don't you? It will be alright, Jesse. Hey, we've got out of worse trouble than this before."

Jesse nodded shakily, but still looked far from convinced. He leaned into her sisterly embrace.

"I can't go on like this, Amanda," he whispered. "I'm so scared."

"I know," Amanda soothed, pulling him even closer to her and gently rubbing his arm.

She didn't want to admit it, but she was seriously worried about her friend. His depression was deepening and now he was even beginning to blame himself for events that were totally beyond his control. Amanda was scared too, scared of what would happen to Jesse, if Mark couldn't find a way out of this mess.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART NINE)

Amanda stayed with Jesse for as long as she possibly could, until her own duties as a mother forced her to leave. She had desperately wanted to stay, not liking the way that Jesse's mood continued to deteriorate, nor how nothing that she said could cheer him up. 

She didn't think that it was a good idea for him to be left alone, but in the end, she'd had no choice. She hadn't wanted to call Mark, knowing the burden of guilt that he himself was carrying. How could he come and keep Jesse company, following the events of that morning? The only other option was Steve and he was working late.

So, she had just quietly left, promising herself that she would call back round on her way into work the next day.

Jesse was barely even aware of her exit. In fact, he'd barely heard a word that she'd said to him for the last hour that she'd been there. Something about her visit had bothered him and now he sat, chewing things over in his mind, and growing more and more concerned.

Everything had been fine until he had asked why Mark had not been in touch. Well, maybe not exactly fine, considering how he had broken down, but at least normal. But, after that, Amanda had been distinctly evasive. At one point, she had been completely unable to meet his eyes.

It just wasn't like Amanda to be anything less than completely honest with him. _Unless,_ he thought to himself, with growing despondency. _She didn't believe me. Unless none of them do._

Unable to live with where that train of thought would take him, Jesse wandered into the bedroom and fell into bed, without even bothering to undress. His only intention was to hide from the world, until this whole, ugly matter was resolved. Whatever the outcome.

*****

The following day at work, Mark was the recipient of the most unexpected phone call. To begin with, he was only half-listening, as he tried to organise the scattered papers on his desk. He had a meeting with the Board that afternoon, one that he was totally unprepared for.

"Doctor Sloan, my name is Mick Donovan," a strange voice said, over the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Donovan. What can I do for you?" Mark picked up one of the diary entries and scanned it again, looking for some discrepancy, anything that might help Jesse. But those entries were every bit as damning as when he'd read them the first time.

"I understand that you're having some problems with Eric Flynn and his daughter."

That got Mark's attention and he froze, his fingers tightening on the paper he still held. Up until that moment, he had been certain that the hospital had successfully kept the whole nasty business under wraps.

"How could you possibly know anything about that?" he demanded.

"I know that family very well," Donovan explained. "I used to be a teacher at Oakley High School."

Oakley. Mark recognised the name instantly. Steve had told him that the Flynn family had originated from a little town in Delaware, called Oakley. 

"I see," he answered slowly, wondering where all this was leading.

"No, I don't think you do, doctor." Donovan continued, his voice growing more intense. "I was a teacher there right up until I was accused of having an affair with one of my pupils. Namely, Melissa Flynn."

"My God," Mark breathed, scarcely daring to believe what he was hearing. "So Steve was right, they have done this before."

"Yes, doctor, they most certainly have and it was at the expense of my career. I don't want to see it happen to anyone else."

Mark's mind was racing as he wondered how the Board would react to this latest piece of information. With any luck, Jesse could be back at work the next day. He needed to get every last detail, so that he could present a convincing argument to his superiors.

"How did you hear about this?" he wanted to know. 

"One of my colleagues, sorry, my _former_ colleagues, called me and said that there had been an LA detective on the phone, asking questions about Melissa." Donovan explained. "None of them ever believed that I was guilty of what I'd been accused of. Unfortunately, my bosses didn't see it that way."

Mark suppressed a sigh. It was all starting to sound horribly familiar.

"Anyway," the former teacher continued. "I just couldn't sleep last night. I knew that they were trying to do it again. I spoke to the police and they directed my call here."

"Mr. Donovan, you will never know how eternally grateful I am," Mark told him fervently. Then added, hardly daring to hope: "I don't suppose that Melissa kept a diary back then?"

"She most certainly did, detailing everything about our supposed relationship. She had one Hell of an imagination."

"So I've seen," Mark murmured. "I don't suppose there's any chance that you kept copies?"

"Yes, I did," Donovan answered and Mark could barely believe his luck. "I kept everything. I always thought that one day I might be able to clear my name but, if they'll be any good to you, you're welcome to them."

"Could you please courier them to me? At my expense, of course."

"I'll do better than that, Doctor Sloan. I'm already booked on the next available flight. I'll be in LA by morning."

*****

An hour later, Mark could still hardly believe what had happened. The Board had to start listening to Jesse now. The very fact that the Flynn's had done something like this before, had got away with it before, had to be enough to at least plant the seeds of doubt. 

And Mick Donovan was on his way to LA. He wanted to confront the people who had destroyed his career. He'd also told Mark a little of what Melissa had put him through and his and Jesse's stories were remarkably similar. A simple act of kindness had led to her developing an obsession with him. He'd been afraid that she was being bullied and had tried to help her. A few days later, her father had produced the diary that had ended up costing him his job.

Mark tried not to sound too thrilled as he ended the conversation. After all, nobody had been there to help Mick Donovan and his career was still ruined. But nobody was going to be able to ignore the implications of his words, regarding Jesse. The similarity of events was just to massive to be even considered coincidental.

He tried calling Jesse, repeatedly, wanting to impart the good news, but without success. The phone just rang and rang. Mark remembered the last time that he'd been unable to get in touch with his young friend and sincerely hoped that he hadn't turned to alcohol again.

Needing to share the news with someone, he called Steve. He also wanted to let him know that his exhaustive phone calls of the previous day had borne some fruition.

Steve reacted with delight, then also helped to put his dad's mind at ease by promising to call round at Jesse's as soon as he could. And if the young man had decided to get drunk, well, Steve intended to turn it into a celebration.

Just as Mark was hanging up the phone, Amanda appeared at his door and he waved her in with a smile, eager to bring her up to date. He noticed that the young woman was looking decidedly worried, but then she hadn't heard the news that Jesse was, in all likelihood, in the clear.

He repeated everything that Donovan had told him, unable to hide his relief. When he had finished, Amanda smiled back at him, but the worry was still evident in her eyes.

"That's truly good news, Mark," she said. "It's just what Jesse needs. Have you told him yet?"

"I haven't been able to contact him, but Steve..." Mark paused as he saw tears fill his young colleague's eyes. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I'm just so worried about him, Mark." The words came out in a rush. "When I saw him last night, he was so down. I couldn't get through to him at all. He was really depressed and I'm just so scared that he might have done something stupid."

"I'm sure Jesse wouldn't do anything of the sort," Mark tried to reassure her. "And anyway, Steve's going to call round later." 

"But what if..." Amanda wasn't deliberately being pessimistic, but Mark hadn't seen Jesse the night before. She had. "Mark, I went round again this morning, but he wouldn't answer the door. I must have been knocking for ten minutes. And now he's not answering the phone..."

Mark looked at her, gravely. He saw her genuine fear and her worry began to transfer itself to him. He reached for the phone.

"I think I'll just call Steve again," he said, grimly. "See if he can get straight round to Jesse's place now."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART TEN)

Jesse lay on his bed, long since having given up any attempt to sleep. His fears chased themselves round and round his head, not giving him a moment's respite and certainly not allowing him to rest.

They didn't believe him. The people that he cared about and trusted more than anything in the world, didn't believe him. It was the only explanation that his tortured mind could come up with. Why else would Mark have been avoiding him? Why else had Amanda been unable to meet his eyes?

He lay for hours, staring at nothing and trying to figure out what the Hell he was going to do. He'd heard Amanda's incessant knocking and, later, the persistent ringing of the telephone, but he ignored them. He couldn't face any more bad news.

Jesse had managed to convince himself that the next time he spoke to his colleagues, it would be to learn of his dismissal. Not knowing what was going on at the hospital, even as he lay there, he could see no hope in his situation.

He tried to imagine the words that Mark would use, the look on his face, as he fired him. Would he see regret, or pity? Or would it just be disdain? After all, if his mentor really did believe Melissa's word over his, then surely he would be glad to see the back of him.

Unable to stand the thought that his friendship with Mark, along with his career, had been destroyed, Jesse sat up. He didn't think he could ever face the older doctor again and certainly not just to have it confirmed that his life was effectively over.

Coming to a sudden decision, Jesse quickly dressed, then pulled an overnight bag out of his wardrobe. He didn't want to have to endure the pitying looks from his colleagues after his dismissal became common knowledge, didn't want to see the disappointment in Mark's eyes when he sacked him.

_Well, _he thought, as he stuffed a few essentials into the overnight bag,_ at least I can spare us both the embarrassment of that._

He had tears in his eyes, as he continued to pack._ I'll just quit, save him the trouble of having to fire me._

But Jesse also knew that he couldn't do that in person. He didn't want to see any of his friends ever again. Nor could he go without at least trying to explain why.

After a few minutes frantic searching, Jesse eventually found a notepad and pen. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he began to write. 

*****

Steve didn't quite understand his dad's urgent insistency that he go to Jesse's straight away. Even though Mark had explained both his and Amanda's worries, he simply could not share them.

He had tried to argue that Jesse might simply have gone out. After all, he had been confined to that apartment for two whole days. He must have been climbing the walls with boredom.

But Mark had refused to be swayed. So Steve eventually capitulated to his dad's almost pleading request and headed off towards Jesse's.

When he arrived at the apartment, the first thing he saw was the young doctor himself and, as he felt relief flood through him, Steve realised that in spite of his protestations, he had been just as concerned as anyone.

Jesse was just getting into his convertible when Steve pulled up and his appearance brought a frown to the detective's face. The doctor seemed a little unsteady on his feet and his face was unnaturally pale. Steve felt a stab of fear. Surely his young friend wasn't about to get behind the wheel drunk again?

Steve got out of his car, knowing that he had to stop Jesse before he did something both dangerous and stupid. Even through his worry, he found himself smiling. He had the news that would make everything all right again.

"Jesse, my dad wants to..." His words trailed off and his smile faded, as Jesse completely ignored him.

Without saying a word, the doctor slid into his car and gunned the engine into life. An instant later he was accelerating away from him.

Steve stared after the retreating car in absolute disbelief. If his friend was drunk, then he was in serious trouble. Not only would Steve be unable to bail him out again, but he was also driving way too fast...

He wanted, needed, to go after the young doctor, to try and stop him before it was too late, but his feet seemed firmly cemented to the ground. As the car grew smaller in his vision, he noticed that the lights at the next intersection were turning to red.

That might have given Steve the chance to catch up with him, but he still couldn't move. He could only continue to watch in horror as Jesse's car showed no sign of slowing down. There was no tell-tale flare of the tail-lights, no sudden screech of brakes. The Mustang sped straight through the red light and into the path of intersecting traffic.

*****

Mark was in a genuinely upbeat mood for the first time in what felt like forever. His meeting with the hospital Board had gone better than he had even dared hope. Jesse was as good as in the clear.

Even though his evidence at the time was only word of mouth, he had managed to produce an argument that had left serious doubts in each and every one of the Board Members' minds.

During the course of the meeting, it was revealed that Eric Flynn was demanding compensation somewhere in the region of fifty thousand dollars and, needless to say, the Board had been only too delighted to find a way to get out of making that kind of settlement.

In fact, they had been ready to simply call Flynn's lawyer and tell him exactly what he could do with his compensation claim. 

But Mark had managed to talk them out of that. He wanted Mick Donovan to have the chance to confront them. He wanted to see their faces when they realised that their 'get-rich-quick' scheme had failed. And he wanted to find out the truth behind Melissa's bruises.

More than anything else, he wanted Steve to call and tell him that he'd found Jesse and that his young colleague was alright.

*****

Jesse had instantly recognised Steve's car and, at the sight of it, thought that he was about to faint. He didn't need this confrontation. He had just wanted to slip away, as unobtrusively as possible. 

The letter that he'd written to Mark was in his jacket pocket and he intended to mail it as soon as he got to... Well, wherever he ended up.

He had no particular destination in mind, just the overwhelming urge to get away and try to find some way to close the door on what had once been the best chapter of his life.

Steve smiled at him but Jesse, still not in the most rational frame of mind, believed that he saw sympathy in that smile. 

"Jesse, my dad wants to..." Steve had begun.

Jesse didn't wait to hear any more. _My dad wants to see you. _He silently filled in the words that he hadn't allowed his friend to speak. _He's gonna fire you._ Or, even worse: _He told me to tell you not to bother going back to work. Ever._

He slammed his car door shut, cutting off anything else that the detective might have said. With shaking hands, he started the engine. Then he floored the accelerator, knowing that, in all likelihood, Steve would come after him. He needed a good head start. He needed to get away.

As he drove, Jesse found his eyes drawn to the rear-view mirror. He could clearly see Steve, standing in the road and staring after him in utter shock. Without even realising he was doing it, he speeded up even more and turned his eyes back to the road.

His distraction had only lasted for a few, short seconds. But that was enough. As Jesse tore his attention away from his friend, he heard the blaring of a horn, then caught a glimpse of the shining silver grill of a truck that was almost right on top of him.

A part of his mind briefly remembered the red light that he had noticed only at the periphery of his vision. The red light that he had just driven straight through.

Then the truck slammed into the side of his car and he was aware of nothing else.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART ELEVEN)

It was the noise that spurred Steve into motion. The horrendous sound of metal colliding with metal, of rubber screeching on asphalt, of a harsh, blaring horn, finally pulled him out of his paralysis and he took off at a run towards the intersection, even though he dreaded what he might find there.

He could see other people getting out of their cars and approaching the wrecked vehicles cautiously. Some were drawn to the truck, others to the Mustang, but Steve had only one destination in mind. Even as he ran, he unconsciously pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled 911, gasping details of the accident to the infuriatingly calm operator.

He wanted to yell at her, to scream that this was _Jesse_ who had been hurt and she'd better get help there pretty Damned fast, but he needed his breath for running.

But, in spite of his panic, of the sheer terror that the crash had invoked in him, he found that he had to slow down as he neared the actual site. The Mustang was a write-off. The metal had crumpled as though it were paper, ruining the sleek lines of what had once been a beautiful car. The windshield was starred and steam, or smoke, billowed out from under the hood. 

One sensible bystander had produced a fire extinguisher and was dousing the engine with liberal coatings of foam, so that the immediate danger of an explosion was averted. Two other men were trying to force the buckled driver's side door open, but Steve could still clearly see Jesse's blond head, slumped over the steering wheel.

He paused for a moment, utterly shocked by the sight, then the jammed door suddenly came free and those same two men crowded in on his friend. Steve surged forwards, pushing his way unceremoniously through the assembled crowd, desperate to reach Jesse before the men could move him and possibly compound any damage that might have already been done.

"Let me through!" he demanded, grabbing the shoulder of one of the men.

"Are you a doctor?"

"Police officer."

The second man spared him the briefest glance.

"I'm a paramedic," he said. "Let me help him. Why don't you go check on the other guy."

"No." Steve's voice was little more than a strangled whisper, but he did move back half a pace. "He's my friend, my best friend. Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's alive," the paramedic answered, grimly. "And that's about all we can hope for right now."

*****

Mark had headed straight down to the path lab after he'd finished his meeting with the hospital Board. While he couldn't assuage Amanda's fears about Jesse's welfare, he could at least let her know that the young doctor's professional future was safe. Then they could keep each other company while they waited to hear from Steve.

He found Amanda sitting at a bench, chin rested in one hand and staring off into the distance. She had long since given up any pretence of trying to work. 

Steve had had more than enough time to get to Jesse's apartment and yet there was still no word. Her worry was almost palpable.

Even though the lab door was open, Mark knocked lightly before he entered. He didn't want to startle her, but even that slight sound caused her to flinch and he realised that she must have been seriously lost in thought.

She leapt to her feet when she saw who it was that had disturbed her.

"Mark, any news?"

Mark saw the hopeful look on her face and cursed himself for not being able to tell her what she so obviously, desperately wanted to hear. He tried to formulate an answer, not wanting to sound glib by simply telling her that the Board had exonerated Jesse. From her expression, she wouldn't have overly cared if his career was in tatters, she just needed to know that he was safe.

Then, before he could even speak, his phone rang.

"Steve." The relief was clearly evident in Mark's voice when he answered and his gaze locked with Amanda's. "Did you..?"

All of the colour drained from the older doctor's face, as his son interrupted him urgently. His eyes dropped to the ground.

"Oh no," he whispered. "Oh God... Yes... Thanks Steve."

He hung up without saying another word and forced himself to look back up at the young pathologist. There were tears in her eyes and she looked as though she were about to faint, but when she spoke, her voice was strong.

"What's happened?" she demanded. "Jesse?"

No matter how many times he'd had to impart bad news, Mark had never found an easy way to do it. There was no easy way. Imparting bad news to a friend, about a friend, was nigh on impossible. His only option was blunt honesty.

"There's been an accident."

*****

Mark and Amanda kept their distance when Jesse, looking unnaturally still and pale, was wheeled into the ER, then through to a trauma room. They listened in numb shock as the paramedics catalogued his list of injuries. A badly broken leg, severe whiplash, head injuries... The list went on.

As much as Mark wanted to be with his young protégé, he forced himself to wait outside. He had every faith in his colleagues and knew that he was in no state, emotionally, to treat him himself. When he had seen Jesse so badly hurt, guilt had flooded through him and now weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"How did I ever let it come to this?" he murmured, mostly to himself.

But Amanda overheard him and whirled on him, a look of shocked disbelief on her face.

"Mark, how can you possibly think that this is in any way your fault?"" she demanded. "It was an accident, that's all, a terrible accident."

"Amanda, what if he's been drinking again?" Mark looked at her sadly.

"It still wouldn't be your fault," she tried to argue. "Jesse was depressed." 

"Of course he was depressed, Dammit! We know how much he loves to work and, when he was suspended, we should have known how it would affect him."

"Mark, you can't blame yourself for..."

"But I do," he interrupted fiercely. "I should have tried harder to fight his suspension. I should have gone to see him last night, instead of hiding away just because I didn't want to admit to him what happened with Melissa."

"And I should have stayed with him," Amanda put in, sadly. "When I saw the state he was in, I never should have left him. But I did."

"Amanda..."

"No, Mark. You're not only one wishing that you'd done things differently. There's blame enough to go around, but it's not going to help Jesse."

Mark looked as though he was ready to argue some more, but Steve's arrival in the ER forestalled whatever he'd been about to say.

"Dad, how is he?" Steve demanded, crossing to where they stood.

Amanda looked at her friend worriedly. The detective looked as though he had gone through his own kind of Hell.

"It's too soon to tell," Mark answered, with genuine regret. "We should know more once he's been up to x-ray. Steve, what happened?"

"He was running away from me." Steve ran a shaky hand over his eyes. "I tried to tell him... Then there was this stop light and... God, dad, he didn't even try to stop."

"Are you saying he did it deliberately?"

There was real pain in Steve's eyes as he reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.

"This fell out of his pocket," he whispered, proffering it to his dad.

Mark looked at the envelope, but made no move to take it. He could clearly see his own name and the address of the hospital, written in Jesse's all too familiar script.

"Oh no," Amanda breathed.

Mark glanced at her and could see by her face exactly what she was thinking. The same thing that he was thinking. _Suicide note_. 

"Are you going to open it?" Steve asked, his voice subdued.

Mark couldn't answer. His heart was hammering in his chest and his mouth was dry with dread, but he reached out a trembling hand and took the letter from his son.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	12. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART TWELVE)

Mark,

By the time you receive this letter I'll have gone. I don't know where yet, but maybe I'll write again when I get there. Although, with the way things have turned out, I don't suppose you'd care if you never heard from me again.

I know that I didn't do anything wrong, but it's obvious that you don't believe me. I saw it in Amanda's face and in the way that both you and Steve have been avoiding me. And if my own friends don't believe me, what chance have I got before the Board?

I don't understand how you can think me capable of such a thing, I thought you knew me better than that. I thought we were friends. I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did.

Consider this letter my resignation. It will save you the bother of firing me.

Jesse Travis.

*****

No sentiment, no goodbye, not even 'yours sincerely'. The young doctor had simply signed his name, with the intention of walking out of their lives forever. 

"Oh, Jesse," Mark murmured, after he'd finished reading. He could hardly believe that his young friend, no matter how depressed he was, could think that they were anything but one hundred per cent behind him.

Steve took the letter from his dad's unresisting fingers and began to read, holding it so that Amanda could also see its content.

_Blame enough to go around._ The young pathologist remembered her own words to Mark, just a short while ago and they left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

"But I wasn't avoiding him," Steve protested. "God, if I'd have just got there two minutes sooner..."

"Don't Steve," Amanda cut in, tearfully. "There's too much guilt here already. We drove him to this. I know we didn't mean to and I know that the things Jesse says in his letter aren't true, but that doesn't matter. It's what _he _ believes."

"He wasn't behaving rationally," Mark tried to reassure her, her obvious distress overshadowing his own bleak feelings. "He didn't mean those things..."

"He did when he wrote them. And nothing has changed to make him think any differently now, not as far as he's concerned." She looked at them both, unable to hide her fear. "What if he doesn't wake up?"

"Amanda, he will wake up." Mark answered firmly. "He is not going to die."

"But what if he does?" she persisted. " What if... What if he... dies, believing that we'd turned our backs on him, that we didn't have any faith in him?"

*****

The hours dragged on. Jesse was transferred from the trauma room to x-ray and then straight into surgery. All the three friends could do was wait.

They had adjourned to the doctor's lounge and sustained themselves with endless cups of bitter coffee, whilst awaiting the news that none of them were sure they were ready to hear.

Eventually, as the evening drew in and Steve's pacing was beginning to wear on the other two's nerves, the door opened. Justin Wilson, Jesse's surgeon, stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. He looked at the three faces turned expectantly towards him. Three voices, all at once, asked the same question, each in their own way.

"Justin?"

"How is he?"

"Doctor?"

"He's still unconscious," Wilson answered, grimly. "And his condition is very, very serious. He suffered severe head trauma, which resulted in a fractured skull and bleeding to the brain. I'm sorry, I wish it were better news."

"Justin, what's the prognosis?" Mark asked quietly.

"It's too early to say." The doctor shook his head. "You know how it is with head injuries, Mark. All we can do is keep him comfortable and continue to monitor him."

"What...?" Amanda's voice was barely audible, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "What about his other injuries?"

"Well, in that respect, he has been remarkably lucky," Wilson answered, with the ghost of a smile. "There was no permanent damage to his spine. There's some very nasty swelling, some nerve and muscle damage, but nothing that won't heal, given time. His right femur was broken in two places, but that should knit cleanly. And the rest is just cuts and bruises. If it weren't for that head injury, he'd have got off remarkably lightly."

"But when is he going to wake up?" Steve demanded sharply, cutting to the chase.

"That's not a question that Doctor Wilson can answer, Steve." It was Mark who spoke, saving his colleague from the need to deliver even more less than encouraging news. "We can only wait."

"Dammit!"

Steve turned away, running his hands through his hair in sheer frustration. There were things that he needed to say to his friend, things that couldn't wait.

The letter had hurt him more deeply than he had thought possible. For Jesse to think that he no longer cared, that he in fact thought him guilty of that ludicrous accusation, almost defied belief.

But he had read it with his own eyes and now he felt an almost desperate need to seek forgiveness. Steve had already lost his sister through estrangement, he wasn't about to go through the same bitter experience, with the closest thing he'd ever had to a brother.

*****

"I'm going to sit with him," Amanda said, as soon as Doctor Wilson had once again left them alone.

"Amanda, it's getting late," Mark protested. "And it's been a long day. You should be getting home."

"How can I? You saw what he put in that letter. He was running away from us, Mark. He was leaving, without saying goodbye, because he thought that we didn't believe him. He's not going to wake up without our help. He has no reason to wake up. Jesse thinks that we have turned our backs on him and now we have to show him that he's wrong. That we always have and always will have nothing but absolute faith in him. _We_ have to give him the reason to live."

She stopped then, her cheeks flushed by the sheer passion of her outburst. Her eyes were filled with tears of anger, at the unfairness of it all, but they still held a steely determination. Both Mark and Steve knew better than to try and convince her that going home was a viable alternative.

Mark sighed, feeling a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. That letter had been so impersonal. It made no reference to the wonderful times that the four of them had shared. No mention of CJ or Dion, the former of which Jesse himself had helped to bring into the world. They both would have missed him terribly, but their favourite 'uncle' hadn't even seemed to care.

How had he, Mark Sloan, renowned for his compassion and empathy, allowed the young man to degenerate into such a state? Shouldn't he have seen some clue in the drink driving episode? It was so out of character and yet, he had let it pass with barely a comment.

As a thousand 'if onlys' ran through his head, Mark felt his weariness drop away from him. Amanda was right. It was up to them, his friends, even if he didn't recognise them as such right now, to help him on the road to recovery.

"Of course, you're right," he said, eventually. "Jesse shouldn't be alone until he's through this. We'll all sit with him, talk to him, let him know how wrong he was and how much he means to us."

Steve smiled, with grim determination.

"We'll bring him back." 

It wasn't a statement. It was a promise.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART THIRTEEN)

"Jesse, I don't know if you can hear me. I can only pray that you can, because what I've got to say is really, really important." Amanda was unable to keep the tears out of her voice. "You were wrong, Jess. So very, very wrong. We love you, you know? And we never, not for one minute, believed what that girl accused you of."

She took hold of her friend's hand, seeking some response, but finding none. His condition was deteriorating. 

"I don't know what you saw, what you thought you saw, in my eyes when I was at your apartment, but I promise you, it wasn't judgement, it wasn't disbelief. Maybe it was fear. I was so worried about you. And now... Jesse, honey, now I've hurt you even more and you don't know how sorry I am."

She reached up with one hand to gently stroke the side of his face, usually so alive and animated, now as still as death.

"Jesse, please. You have to come back to us. I don't know how I could live with myself if you don't." Her voice descended into a whisper. "Please, Jess."

*****

Mark almost cried off meeting with the Flynn's the next morning. He needed to be with Jesse, to ensure that his dear friend was going to be alright, but he knew that either Steve or Amanda would be there in his absence.

Besides, he also needed to ensure that nothing like this would happen again. With a heavy heart, Mark approached the Boardroom, trying to maintain a professional exterior, whilst his true feelings for the Flynn family were bordering on sheer hatred.

Mark Sloan was not a man who hated easily, he was too compassionate by nature, but when he thought of what those people had put Jesse through, and all for the sake of money...

He had to cut that thought off before it could go any further. Otherwise, he would never make it through this meeting without losing his temper and that would be of no use to anybody.

As he neared his destination, he found Mick Donovan waiting for him.

"I've waited such a long time for this," the schoolteacher said, softly. "Now I'm here, I'm not quite sure what I want to say."

"Just speak from your heart, Mr. Donovan. Whatever happens, you've already done more than enough. You've helped Jesse to..." He trailed off. He had been about to say _to get his life back,_ but he didn't know if that were true any more.

"How is he?" Donovan asked, noticing the older man's distress. Jesse's accident had been the talk of the hospital and the teacher had overheard enough to know that the young man's condition was grave.

"No change." Mark's answer was short, abrupt. "We should go in."

*****

Before Jesse had been hurt, it had been Mark's intention to have Mick Donovan wait outside, then make a dramatic entrance, to wipe the smirk from Eric Flynn's face. Now though, he no longer had the heart for such theatre. He just wanted the meeting to be over with, to send those scavengers packing and get back to what his important in life. Namely, his vigil at Jesse's bedside.

But still, whether intentional or not, Donovan's entrance into the Boardroom did have a dramatic effect on the entire Flynn family. Eric's face went completely white, while Rebecca's jaw dropped so low that it was almost comical. However, Melissa's reaction was the most telling.

"Mr. Donovan," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she stared at him in disbelief.

_Mr. Donovan. _The girl's former teacher had shared with Mark some of the details of what Melissa had written in her diary about him. She would certainly not have addressed him so formally, had any of them been true. She'd spoken to him like a child would speak to their teacher.

The Flynn's never had a case after that and everyone in the room knew it. While Eric had tried to bluff and bluster, for all he was worth, that's all it was. Even his own lawyer soon stopped trying to help him.

In what had to be the shortest Board meeting in history, the Flynn's began to make their excuses and seek a hasty retreat.

And that was when Mark stepped in. He was determined that Jesse wasn't going to have suffered so terribly for nothing. He would not just sit back and let this reprehensible family simply move to another city and try and spread their poison there. It was going to stop. Now. And he was the man to stop it.

"Sit down," he barked, allowing his anger to surface for a brief moment.

The three of them reacted to the command in his voice and sank back down into the chairs they had so hurriedly vacated.

"Don't think for a minute that I am going to let you get away with this," he began, fixing each of them in turn with an icy blue glare. "You have broken the law. You have tried to sully the name of one of the finest young doctors that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You have attempted to obtain money by deception."

His gaze settled on the now subdued face of Eric Flynn.

"And somebody has been abusing your daughter."

*****

Steve had taken Amanda's place at Jesse's bedside. He had forced the young pathologist to go home, to see her boys and to get some much-needed rest. She had complied, albeit reluctantly, swearing that she was too worried to even consider being able to sleep. But the exhaustion on her face had told a different story.

The detective sat in silence, studying his friend for a long moment. It was difficult for him to know what to say at the best of times. And this was hardly the best of times.

Guilt nagged away at him, despite what Amanda had said about blame. He constantly replayed the events of that day in his head. The way he had originally argued with his dad about the need for someone to call round at Jesse's, wasting those precious minutes that might have enabled him to arrive in time to stop his friend driving off like that.

And the way he had driven at too sedate a pace, not feeling the urgency to put his siren on and obeying every traffic law along the way.

The chance to have prevented this from happening had lain very much with him and he had failed. Now that failure might cost his best friend his life.

"Jesse..." his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Jess, please. You have to wake up. Just give me some sign, huh? Let me know you're listening?"

Steve's tortured eyes roamed over the young man's face, looking for even the slightest hint of movement, but there was none.

*****

"Come with me. I want to show you something."

There was something in Mark's voice that told the Flynn family this was an invitation they could not refuse. Meekly, they followed the distinguished doctor from the Boardroom and through the corridors of the hospital. 

Mark walked slightly ahead of them, not offering any explanation, not speaking to them at all. He had finally learnt the truth behind their twisted accusations and it was a truth that had sickened him.

He could only look on the family as leeches, totally without morals or scruples, and prepared to do literally anything to get what they wanted. He had seen some shocking sights in his time, heard some terrible stories, but what this family had done had shaken him to his very core. And just for the sake of money.

Well, he was not going to let it happen again. There was no point in trying to appeal to their better nature, he was convinced that they didn't have a better nature. But he was hoping that they did have a conscience.

The small group came to a stop outside Jesse's room. Mark closed his eyes briefly as he saw his son, sitting with his head bowed, at the young doctor's bedside.

"Fifty thousand dollars," he said quietly, not looking at any of them. "That's what you were after, isn't it?"

He shook his head, plunging his hands deep into his pockets, then stepped to one side to allow the Flynn's to see into the room.

"Fifty thousand dollars," he said again. "Is that worth a man's life? A man who did nothing wrong and was only trying to help?"

"Jesse?" Melissa's voice was filled with tears and she reached a trembling hand towards the glass.

"I want you to remember this the next time you think about doing something so deplorable," Mark went on, ignoring her tears. "You drove him to this. He thought that he was going to lose his job, his friends, the respect that we all have for him. All because you wanted to line your own pockets."

"We didn't mean..." Rebecca sounded genuinely remorseful, but Mark interrupted her harshly.

"I don't care what you meant. This is what you did," he snapped. "I just wanted

you to know that you might have killed a man, as surely as if you'd been driving the truck that hit him. Now get the Hell out of my hospital."

Mark didn't watch them leave. He turned back and looked into Jesse's room. The scenario had hardly changed at all. The only difference was that there were now tears on his son's cheeks.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

__

(PART FOURTEEN)

"...and used ice to numb her face before hitting her." The fury was clearly evident in Mark's voice as he explained what he had learned to his son.

Mark was still absolutely livid. It was beyond his ability to understand how someone could deliberately hurt a member of their own family, even if that person had been a willing participant, as Melissa obviously had been.

The two of them were sitting by Jesse's bedside, talking quietly, although they knew that, even had they shouted at one another, they would not have disturbed their young friend. 

"What about the cuts on her arm?" Steve asked. "The ones that brought her here in the first place."

"Apparently they were genuine," Mark answered, clearly unhappy. "She fell into the side of the conservatory and broke one of the panes of glass with her arm. It wasn't until she saw Jesse that she had the idea to try again what had worked so well in Delaware."

"It was all Melissa's idea?"

"Yes, she just happened to come across the kindest, most compassionate doctor in this entire hospital. The one that would fall for her plan all too easily. Jesse..."

He was interrupted by a soft tap at the door and Amanda poked her head in. She smiled tiredly at them as she entered the room.

"How's he doing?"

Mark sighed heavily and let his gaze drift to his injured friend.

"Not good," he admitted, reluctantly. "He's had another scan and there's no swelling, no sign of any injury to the brain and his wound is healing nicely. There's no reason why he shouldn't show some sign of improvement."

"Yes there is, Mark." Amanda rested her hand over Jesse's, looking at him with infinite compassion. "He's still trying to run away from us."

"What else can we do?" Steve snapped, angry and frustrated at feeling so helpless. "We've talked to him, we've begged him to wake up. How do we get through to him?"

"We just keep on trying," Amanda answered, fiercely. "We _make_ him listen. He has to understand that we're here for him, that none of this was his fault..."

"Actually," Mark interrupted, sounding thoughtful. "Steve and I were just discussing exactly what happened. We know the truth now and maybe it would help Jesse, if he knew it too."

"The truth?" the young pathologist echoed. "You mean, who was hurting Melissa?"

Mark looked at her gravely and the anger that had constantly bubbled beneath the surface of his outwardly calm countenance, since this whole sordid mess had begun, flared in his eyes.

"It was Rebecca."

"Her sister!" Amanda suddenly realised the volume of her response and shot an involuntary, apologetic look towards the figure on the bed. He hadn't stirred.

Talking as much to Jesse as he did to Amanda, Mark told her everything that he knew.

*****

Melissa, for saying that she was only fourteen years old, was a greedy and manipulative child. She had seen kindness in Mick Donovan, when he'd tried to draw her out of herself, convinced that she was a victim of bullying. In fact, there had been an incident, but it had been a one-off. Melissa had handled it herself, standing up to the would-be bullies and so had never been targeted by them again.

At the time, there was a compensation craze sweeping across America. Law-suits were filed every day and ridiculous amounts of money were being claimed and awarded. Eric Flynn, in particular, had always resented this and often griped to his daughters that he would never find himself in a position to sue someone else for thousands of dollars.

According to him, it just wasn't fair. He still had to work for a living, whereas the right set of circumstances could put the whole family on easy street.

And so Melissa began to formulate her plan. She well remembered the kindness that Mr. Donovan had shown her when he'd thought that she was in trouble, so she set out to utilise that kindness. It was ridiculously easy. She would turn up at his classroom door, looking dishevelled, or even only upset, and he would try to convince her that she could trust him.

They spent many hours talking over her completely fabricated woes, hours during which they were usually alone. And then Melissa began to keep a diary.

Things had snowballed rapidly from there, much as they had at Community General, but the school had quickly decided to give in to the family's demands. The Flynn's were awarded tens of thousands of dollars, in an out of court settlement and Mick Donovan had lost his job.

The rest, as the saying went, was history. Melissa, upon hurting her arm, had stumbled upon another opportunity to make some money, in the form of a kind, compassionate young doctor called Jesse Travis.

*****

"And she didn't mind her sister beating up on her?" Amanda sounded incredulous.

"On the contrary, she insisted on it," Mark answered, still not quite able to believe the lengths that family had been prepared to go to. "She knew that she needed to be physically injured in order to get close to Jesse."

"But still, even numbed by ice, it must have hurt her."

"It was all about money, Amanda, and you know that some people will do just about anything for money. And they won't care about who they hurt along the way."

They sat in silence for a moment, regarding their young friend. He had still showed no sign of regaining consciousness, no indication that he had even heard what they said.

Steve had said nothing throughout his father's explanation. Inside, he was slowly tearing himself apart. _Don't let him down again_. The very last words he had spoken to Jesse, apart from his abortive attempt to tell him about Mick Donovan. _Don't let him down again._

But he had let Jesse down in the worst possible way. If he had only got there just a few minutes earlier...

Angry, frustrated and wanting to hurt someone, the way that Jesse had been hurt, Steve abruptly stood up. His chair scraped noisily across the linoleum floor and he stormed towards the door. Mark intercepted him before he even had the chance to open it.

"You can't desert him now," he said softly.

"I'm _not_ deserting him," Steve hissed angrily in response. "I just don't see how sitting on our hands is going to make any difference."

"So what do you propose to do?"

"I'm going... I..." Steve trailed off, as he realised that he actually had no plan, nor even a destination in mind. "I don't know," he concluded, lamely. "Anything other than just sit here, waiting for him to die."

"He is _not_ going to die," Mark interjected, sharply. Then, seeing the disbelieving look on his son's face, sought some way to convince him. "You remember when he caught that smallpox virus? Or how about when he went missing for five days and was then forcibly drugged, to try and convince everyone he was crazy? He survived all of that, Steve. And he'll survive this. He's tougher than he looks, you know."

"He'd have to be," Steve answered, casting a fond, yet wistful look at the silent figure on the bed. "He always manages to get into so much trouble..."

"Mark, Steve." Amanda's voice held a note of pleading and they both looked at her in concern.

The young pathologist was still holding Jesse's hand, but her eyes were on the two of them.

"Do you really think that's going to help him?" she asked, her anger apparent in spite of her low voice. "Reminders of his brushes with death? Do you think that's what he needs right now?"

The two men looked at her apologetically, as they realised how loud their voices had become during their altercation.

"Of course, you're right," Mark answered softly. He moved back to his seat at the side of Jesse's bed, almost overwhelmingly relieved when Steve followed suit. "We should try and concentrate on the good times. And there have been enough of those over the years, haven't there?"

*****

So they talked. Individually, in pairs, or all together, they constantly reminded Jesse of all the wonderful times they had shared.

Twenty-four hours dragged by. During that time, Jesse was never alone except when his own needs had demanded some privacy. And he never gave even the slightest sign that he was aware of anything that any of them said.

Mark, Steve and Amanda talked themselves hoarse, often repeating their light-hearted tales, as they strove to focus only on the good things that had happened to them. It was hard. So many of their jokes, so much of the laughter, was deeply entwined with the harsh realities of the lives they led, the professions they were each dedicated to. But they were determined that, so long as Jesse had a breath in his body, they would do whatever it took to make him well again.

Eventually, though, all three were forced to concede that their latest efforts were proving equally as unsuccessful as anything else they'd tried.

Mark waited until both Steve and Amanda had rested and they, once again, sat together at their dear friend's bedside. They had ran out of jokes and anecdotes and were beginning to run out of hope. Mark had only one thing left to try.

"You know," he said, sadly. "I never truly realised just how deeply he must have been hurting, just how depressed he had actually become. It's as though his feeling of betrayal has penetrated deep into his subconscious and that's why he won't listen to us now. My God, he must have been feeling it right down in his very soul."

"So what do we do?" Steve asked, gruffly. He had never allowed any more tears to fall, after the time his father had seen him weeping in the ICU and his voice was thick with the weight of them. 

"We have to convince him that he's wrong. That we _do_ trust him and would stand, _have stood_, by him, no matter what."

"But how, Mark?" Amanda, in contrast to Steve, could not contain her tears. It was destroying her to see her lively, energetic friend - her brother, in all but blood - lying there so close to death. "What else can we do?"

"We can prove it to him."

*****

"Jess, do you remember when Eric Spindler was murdered?"

Amanda gasped aloud at the mention of the former doctor's name. Of course Jesse would remember, after all he had almost gone to prison for his murder.

"Mark, what are you doing?" she demanded, disbelievingly. "That was one of the worst moments of Jesse's life. I've never known him to be so scared as he was when I went to visit him in jail."

"Yes, he was scared," Mark agreed, sadly. "I think we all were. Jeri Murdico came so close to successfully framing him and getting away with murder. It was impossible not to be scared."

"I think I know where you're going with this, dad." Steve leaned forward over Jesse's bed and focussed intently on his young friend's face. "Do you remember it, Jess? When I had to arrest you, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You know why? Because I _knew_ that you were innocent."

"We never doubted you for a minute, Jesse," Mark added, also speaking directly to the comatose man. "It didn't matter how much evidence Jeri managed to stack against you. We never, ever considered even the possibility that you might be guilty."

"That's why we fought so hard for you, Jess." Amanda had realised what they were trying to do and added her own assurances. "I know it was Ben Matlock who got you off, but we were all there, honey. We were all at your apartment when he found the broken chair."

"We were looking for evidence, Jesse," Steve explained. "Evidence that would clear you, because we knew there had to be some. And there had to be some because we knew that you weren't guilty."

"Think about it, my friend." Mark stood and gently touched Jesse's cheek. "Please. Jeri had almost everybody convinced. _Almost_ everybody. If she had framed anyone else, using that kind of evidence, then I think she would most probably have got away with it. Her mistake was in trying to pin it all on you, the one man that we knew would never be capable of doing such a thing."

"Are you hearing this, Jesse?" Amanda asked his motionless form. "Do you understand what we're saying here? Even in the face of that overwhelming evidence, we never doubted you. So why do you think that we're doubting you now?"

It was Steve who noticed it first. The tiniest flicker behind closed eyelids, the first sign of movement they had seen from Jesse since the accident.

"Dad!" 

The eyelids flickered again and Mark leaned forward intently.

"That's it, son," he gently urged the young man. "Come back to us, Jess. Please, son. Come back to us."

Jesse's awakening was a slow and gradual affair. Continually encouraged by the voices of the three people that he held closest to his heart, he fought his way out of the darkness that had held him for so long.

Just a few minutes after Steve had noticed that first, almost imperceptible hint of movement, the young doctor's eyes cracked open. The first thing he saw was his three friends, all looking down at him, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. He felt a smile touch his lips.

As he had slowly regained consciousness, he had heard much of what they'd had to say and wanted desperately to let them know how grateful he was. Grateful for them not giving up on him. For, once again, standing by him when he needed them the most. For simply being there.

And everything that he was feeling must have showed on his open, expressive face, because all three of them smiled warmly at him. It was Mark who voiced the sentiments they were all feeling.

"Welcome back, Jesse."

THE END.

Author's note: This really is the end, as I will no longer be posting my stories on this site. The childish behaviour of certain individuals here has left me thoroughly sickened. Yes, I am British and so have been particularly offended by some of the recent comments. I did consider leaving when those rantings first started to appear under the guise of chapters, but I wanted to finish this story out of respect for the readers whose opinions I genuinely care about. Now, however, I feel that I have no choice but to take my work elsewhere. I have been and continue to be grateful to everyone who has reviewed any of my stories. Guardian. 

This story is dedicated to Eira and Sue. You girls know why.


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